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I've been never been not so focused in my life - well, except for possibly when my family expanded from three to four, we moved ten days after my son was born ten weeks premature, my incision split open from my c-section, and life just overall sucked. That was back when the world was normal in 2012. Now, that we've entered an anagram of 2012 in 2021, I've made the intention to be better. I can't be the best at anything I do. At least not right now. Not right now while we're still in the middle of a pandemic and a political transition that is nothing like what we've ever experienced in my lifetime. But, I can add to my writing. And it doesn't have to be perfect. Actually, early in the pandemic, I participated in some writing where we gave ourselves permission to write badly. And I freehand wrote something. Most writing I've finished during the pandemic has been written out in freehand. There's something about the feeling of the pen in my hand, the ink on the paper, and the words filling in the void that fulfills me. It fulfills me in a way that typing just can't. Therefore, when I wrote this, it started on paper.


Twenty-twenty one

Hope. Freedom. Equity. Peace.

Inclusive. For all.

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